Fancy
by TaylorWayero
Summary: His eyes glistened and an impish smirk spread across his face.  "You fancy me, don't you?"


So, Nathan wasn't graceful. He was careless and carefree and uncaring and in short, quite void of an ability to care about most things.

He got hurt a lot. He died quite frequently.

There was probably some universal profound reason that the boy who knew exactly how to push all the right buttons on all the right people, was blessed with immortality. However, being who he was, he really didn't give a shit. Nathan was cocky and far too confident for his own good, and he got himself into more trouble than he could handle. If shit did indeed hit the fan, however, and he ended up with a bullet through his head or a knife in his chest, Nathan knew that in a mere few hours he could brush the dust off his pants and walk away.

Ok, it was a bit more complicated than that. He would struggle in agony, feel every pulse and bite of pain rip through his body, tearing apart every fiber and causing every cell to implode until….

But that didn't matter; at least it didn't seem too. Nathan was the goofball, the douche bag. He didn't seem to have ~feelings~ or ~emotions~, only an infinite goal to piss everybody off. He wasn't vulnerable, except that he was. Nathan didn't bottle up the pain or the fear that he would outlive probably the only people would ever bother with him or that he could quite possibly spend eternity alone, (Kelly did make a point, he was a complete asshole, and honestly, who would want to put up with _that_ for the rest of their life) he saved it for later, when he was alone. He would choke out little sobs in the back of buildings or in dark alleys in bad parts of town. He'd sit on the damp ground and pull his knees in close to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering.

Sometimes, if he was brave enough, he would even start thinking. Thinking was dangerous, especially for someone like Nathan, who relied on an empty brain and a never-give-a-damn attitude to survive (and sometimes even that failed). But still, once an a while, like all normal angsty teenagers, he had to wonder, what if someone actually cared about him? He had people he could call friends, they felt bad for him when he died, but really, how much did they care? He was a pretty irritating pain in the ass.

So, tonight was no different. It was dark, the ground was cool and a little damp. And Nathan was just letting a few stray tears spill over and tracks down his cheeks. He bit his lip and choked down a sob, wrapping his arms tighter around his boney frame. It was times like this where all his cocky confidence and carelessness just poured from his body, and he felt terribly alone, like he was the only person left on Earth.

He was jarred out of his thoughts, startled by the soft sound of someone else's breathing.

"The fuck is there…pervert!" He shouted, hastily trying to wipe away any evidence of what he was doing here exactly.

"I-For the last time, Nathan, I'm not a pervert."

"What the hell Simon? A bloke can't have a good wank in privacy? Jesus!"

In what seemed like the blink of an eye Simon was standing in front of him, crouched down so that he was face to face with Nathan. His head was tilted in genuine curiosity

"D-do you always…um, cry…when you…um…do…that?"

"Is it really any of your business, _Simon_?" Nathan snapped, eyes darkening "I find it very creepy that you're even curious. Actually, I find everything about you creepy, but wanting to know the specifics of my wank-off habits, that really takes the cake."

Simon bristled a bit, eyes narrowing. "It's not like that and you know it! I'm just…concerned, that's all!"  
>"<em>Concerned<em>?" Nathan asked incredulously, "That's a fuckin' joke, right?" He chuckled, a bit bitterly and slumped against the damp concrete wall behind him.

"No one is concerned with my well-being, Simon." He said, not quite a whisper, but his voice didn't have the usual snarky sarcasm it usually carried.

There was an awkward, heavy silence, and then a rush of air as Simon shoved Nathan against the wall, fingernails digging sharply into his shoulders. Nathan let out an angry hiss as he felt his skull hit the cement behind him with a crack.

Simon's eyes were black when he said, "You listen to me, you think you're so great at taking care of yourself, but you're such a dipshit. If it weren't for that stupid god damned storm you would've been long gone. I don't know why I even bother. You won't let anyone in. I'm openly saying I _care _about you, I'm _concerned_ for your well-being, and you turn it around to make me look like some creepy pervert!"

Simon was breathing heavily, his race flushed with rage. His spine was curved in and he was trying to stare Nathan down best he could, despite being shorter. Nathan craned his neck, as close to Simon's face as he could get with Simon still holding him against the concrete wall. His eyes glistened and an impish smirk spread across his face.

"You fancy me, don't you?" He asked, struggling to get even farther into Simon's personal space. Simon spluttered and backed away, arms flailing in shock. Nathan stumbled forward, crashing into Simon and knocking them both onto the cement. Nathan made a big, infuriating show of sprawling himself along Simon's chest, squirming about until his flopped down with a content sigh.

"Get _off_, you prick!" Simon shouted, struggling to push Nathan off of him, "how are you so heavy? You weigh, like, _thirty pounds_!"

"Now Simon," Nathan said with a tsk, "Flattery will get you nowhere. Why don't you fess up, eh? You fancy me, even if you won't admit it. Deep down, there's a burning well of lust gushing from your very being, all thanks to me." Nathan stared at him with dark narrowed eyes, leaning over to place a small peck on his lips. He gave a devilish wink before finally getting up and sauntering away, down the alley.

"Fuck you!" Simon yelled, getting up, embarrassed and confused and flashing Nathan his middle finger.

"Any time, baby!" Nathan called back, voice high and mocking. He blew Simon a kiss, before rounding the corner.

Simon grumbled a bit about what a "stupid dick" and "dumbass son of a bitch" Nathan was, only interrupted by a familiar screech. He followed the noise, rounding the corner Nathan passed only a few minutes before, finding him slumped against another wall, blood pouring from a nasty stab wound.

"Who would mug a little shit like me?" He asked when he looked up and saw Simon glancing in horror. He chuckled a bit, trying to keep his eyes from looking to sad. It was difficult, immortality didn't quite reach emotions, and Nathan still felt like these were his last moments each time, a deep melancholy making his eyes shiny and his throat tight.

"You think I'm gonna bite you? C'mere." He said hoarsely. Simon inched closer until he was crouched beside Nathan. Nathan was dying, but Nathan always came back. He just looked so…disappointed.

"A-are you ok?" Simon asked, eye's glued to his friend's stab wound.

"Oh yeah, fit as a fiddle." He croaked, "I thought you'd gone home. You still can you know, it's dangerous. I know how you're all weird and gay and timid and all that."

Simon stared at his shoes a minute.

"I can't just leave you alone."  
>"Everyone always does."<p>

It's another one of those thick, awkward silences, and Simon scoots just _that _much closer to him, entangling their fingers together. Really, he's sure Nathan will forget all about this in the morning.

"You'll buy me dinner then, yeah?" Nathan asks a bit weakly, smiling this almost tender smile, so uncharacteristic, and he's just drunk on pain.

Simon still smiles back.

"Yeah, yeah sure. Ok…alright." He's mumbling, and Nathan's almost gone, but he leans a bit to the side and rests his head on Simon's shoulder. Simon pats his head, the tips of his fingers running through his curls. He watches Nathan grin lazily, his eyes glassy.

"I'm glad you stayed, no one ever stays."  
>"Yeah, well, I did."<br>"You fancy me." He whispers, finally drifting off. He's no pretty, he's not peaceful. He's dead. But…

"Yeah, I fancy you. Arrogant bastard."

And if Simon sounds fond, well it's dark alleyway, no one can hear him.


End file.
